Work Text:
Spencer's phone vibrates. Someone's calling them again, and it's not the first time their choice to use an old flip phone feels like a relief.
After a minute, the vibration stops. Spencer closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them before she can start to picture the expressions of the BAU team once they find out.
They'll be happy for her, Spencer knows they will. She could be in a much worse situation than this one — she'd looked it up, done all the research, had to be sure her healthcare would cover it. But there's a part of her, a part that probably started existing a long time before she joined the BAU, that needs to keep this close to her chest.
"Ms. Reid?" a nurse asks. She's holding open the office door with one hand, a clipboard in the other.
Spencer can't help but start. This is first time anyone's called them that in person, they think. It feels... good.
"Yes, that's me," they say, and feel a little bit silly for saying it at all. They're the only patient in the waiting room.
The nurse gestures for Spencer to follow her. Spencer takes a deep breath. Her heart had been beating too fast for her to look at the pamphlets laid out in the waiting room, but now she wishes she had. She's seen before and after pictures online, talked to women and not-quite-women like her who experienced it themselves, but crossing the threshold feels like something entirely different. It feels like starting something new.